


What To Do When You See Your Best Bro Naked

by Miriage



Category: Homestuck
Genre: AA Bra Size, Albino Dave Strider, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canadian Karkat, Collegestuck, Dave is totally into Karkat's AA boobs, Embarrassment, F/M, Female Karkat Vantas, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, He's just into Karkat in general, Humanstuck, Insecurity, Karkat has an AA chest, M/M, Nudity, Smut, Thanksgiving, Then again, Towels and Showers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 06:35:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12721476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miriage/pseuds/Miriage
Summary: "Still, when you walked out of the bathroom with a towel around your waist and a smaller one ruffling your black hair, you weren’t expecting him to be there and he wasn’t expecting you to be wearing sans almost nothing."A story in which Dave Strider falls in love after he sees Karkat Vantas naked.(Also, Karkat has AA boobs and Dave is into it.)





	1. Act 1: In Which Dave Sees Karkat Sans Top and in Towel

**Author's Note:**

> So a while ago I tried to make a serious in-character Dave and Karkat fic that was supposed to have a slow romantic build up and be littered with angst.
> 
> Instead this monstrosity was birthed. You have been warned and you will be hopefully pleased.
> 
> ALSO can someone PLEASE tell me of the errors here?

This was not how you had pictured your Friday night going.

Granted maybe you should’ve thought about the possibility of a situation like this happening the second you gave him your fucking spare key, but past you was an idiot and a fool. Not to mention you were lonely when you gave him that key. And he was lonely when he accepted that key. And both of you, in your combined loneliness, agreed to never address the elephant in the room that college made you both feel like lonely, sad, miserable little bitches who needed a familiar face to hang out with and talk too after classes and on weekends.

 

Well, one bitch and one insufferable man-child prick.

 

In high school the two of you didn’t exactly see “eye to eye” per se (or ever.) Mainly because Dave went out with Terezi even though he knew you liked her and he also thought you were a boy. Also you are not a boy. You’re just a girl with a neutral looking face (that you think looks very attractive thank you very much) and a _really_ small chest. Like a microscopic chest. Like a chest that could only be contained within a bra size that was (in Vriska’s words) physically not a bra size.

(Shut up. Karkat Vantas is not upset about having a small chest. And Karkat Vantas certainly did not get upset over the “smaller than tangerines” comments she received nor did Karkat Vantas obsess over said received comments. There were other things to beat yourself up over and “body” was not on that already long list.)

(Okay you lied, maybe body was on that list.)

 

Still, when you walked out of the bathroom with a towel around your waist and a smaller one ruffling your black hair, you weren’t expecting him to be there and he wasn’t expecting you to be wearing sans almost nothing. A realization that he must’ve come in while you were under the spray hits you a little too late as what you could only describe as a look of surprise passes by Dave’s face and he just…. stares at you. And you, in your stupidity, stare back at him, not even bothering to cover yourself. You just…. stare like what he’s doing.

You two stare at each other for more than the comfortable allowed time and you’re a bit surprised that you haven’t started screaming yet. Hell, Dave was probably also surprised you haven’t begun one of your famous/infamous “Karkat Freak-Outs” yet. But it seems like now, with his eyes transfixed on a stray water droplet that dipped into the area known as your “woman fleshy bits”, that the allotted scream moment had ended a long, _long_ time ago.

Surprisingly when you finally do speak (after time lost meaning and you began feeling cold) it’s in a questioning, very bluntly put, not freaked out statement of the word:

 

“What?”

 

Dave seems to snap out of his stupor of stupidity after that. No more than that. He turns around, so quickly his shades actually fly off and hit your couch like a whacked fruit fly, and swears in the loudest voice you’ve ever heard him use.

“Shit! Sorry! Sorry!” he yells, followed by the mumbled explanation of having your spare key (which you know about because you fucking gave it to him). “I should’ve knocked or something Vantas but you know me, I barge in headlong like a bull when they see red or a fat kid when they see cake or a pervert when he sees a sexy hunk of meat. Wait…no…. forget that last one! I-I swear I didn’t see anything! Or I kinda of did…but only by accident! I-!”

There’s moment where you find his flustering a bit endearing…. but the heat of your embarrassment had begun to (finally) spread from your cheeks to your ears. You quickly cut his rambles off by telling him, in the most sarcastic voice you can muster, that there was “Nothing to even fucking see,” (even though there was something to see and your embarrassed as fucking hell) before moving your legs to your bedroom to put on some clothes, making sure to loudly close your door.

He refuses to look at you when you plop down, fully clothed in sweatpants and a black t-shirt, on your couch next to him. He goes so far as to shift way-too-obviously to the left as you pull up Netflix on your TV, muttering another pathetic “Sorry” as you did so. You roll your eyes and give him a shove, asking him what he wants to watch. When he still doesn’t exactly look at you, you decide to be the bigger person and to just let the fates decide what you two were going to binge tonight.

You two end up re-watching _Voltron_ (Volume 2 because Volume 3 was too short and Volume fucking 4 wasn’t out yet) but Dave’s focus isn’t on the TV. And you know this because he isn’t wearing his shitty glasses and he keeps on physically turning his head to look at you. You can practically feel his red eyes, illuminated more than usual by the light of the TV screen, trailing over your face, then to your body, then back to your face and a part of you wonders if he’s stripping you with his eyes.

 

You really hope that he isn’t.

 

“Are you wearing a bra?” he finally asks after episode 7 ends and Netflix questions if you two are even still watching this shit (Yes, Netflix. Always yes. Hella-fucking yes.) His query surprises you and you answer truthfully with a shake your head. “Never wear a bra at home,” you say. “Those things are fucking uncomfortable Dave. Why would I subject myself to their thin wiry confinements in the comfort of my own home?” His eyes widen when you say this and he asks, in a shocked tone that you don’t think you’ve ever heard him use before, if you’ve been doing that every time he came over.

You nod your head and tell him that yes, you were not wearing a bra every time you two “bro’d” together and you certainly weren’t wearing one now. It’s when you say _that_ that Dave begins fidgeting and if it’s in either nervousness or embarrassment you can’t tell. Regardless, his face is suddenly so _red_ that you can’t help but tease him a little, asking if your exposed globes bothered him in anyway. Somehow Dave turns even _redder_ when you ask him this, like he was an apple balloon about to burst and spray you in shitty apple juice flesh.

(Wait…. that sounded way more sexual than you meant it too. Fuck, Strider’s Freudian nip-slips were beginning to rub off on you.)

 

“Just…. Never really saw you as a…girl Vantas,” Dave mutters (his voice cracking and going adorably squeaky at the end.)

You would punch him in the groin… but if you did your relationship as “friends” would take three steps back and you’d be demoted to “The friend Dave calls when John AND Terezi aren’t available.”

 

So instead you just elbow him hard in the ribs.

 

“Newsflash Strider. I am,” you respond. You then try to regain the upper hand and throw him your best “Vantas” smirk. “Don’t let my feminine qualities that you oh-so-kindly-suddenly noticed dull over the fact that I can still kick your ass twelve times over,” you say.

Dave then looks at you…again. He does the same “eye trailing movement” as he did before only this time he does it slow and (dare you think it) almost seductively. When he speaks, his voice is in a low growl that sounds almost…. predatory.

“Yeah,” he says, and the hairs on your everywhere stand up like a turned on hormonal teenage boy. “I think I noticed your ‘feminine qualities’ Karkat.”

You can feel your face become hotter when he says this and you quickly turn back towards the flying robot cat monsters that was _Voltron._

 

You two don’t speak for the rest of Volume 2. 

* * *

 

Dave avoids you for some time after that. Almost as if the memory of him seeing you topless had affected him more than it had affected you. Granted, it does affect you (a lot) and you did sometimes see his shocked expression right before you went to sleep (which lead to a lot of embarrassed moaning into your pillow and a lot humiliated thoughts of “You-were-naked-in-front-of-Dave.”) but you didn’t think he would be _this_ ridiculous about the whole situation. Sure, he saw you pretty much exposed, but then again he’d seen other girls naked…hadn’t he? He dated Terezi who was (in your mind) the most female looking female whoever female’d before. And Dave well…he was attractive (fine, you admit it) and he also probably done the _thing_ with TZ (your mind shudders at the thought of the word “sex” mixed with the names “Dave” and “Terezi”) so he probably did something rated “M” for mature before right?

  
So why would seeing you in your _au naturel_ leave him so flustered? 

* * *

 

He goes so far as to ignore your chats and that’s when you know that this is getting absurd. So, on Friday, you wait outside of his last class and ambush him.

He sees you coming from a mile away and you know he knows it’s you. Still, you’re a bit happy when he walks towards you like a man instead of running away like a coward. “To what do I owe the pleasure Vantas?” he asks sarcastically and, despite his swagger at not avoiding you, he still does not really “look at you” look at you. You remedy this by snapping your fingers in front of his face in a “Look at me asshole” way (that makes you feel like a jerk but whatever.)

“I want lunch fuckface,” you say once you have gotten the attention of Dave (i.e. He finally fucking turns his head around.) You reach over and, pulling him by the collar, drag him over to his motorcycle. “And since I lack a vehicle which isn’t my two shitty sticks that I call legs, you’re going to drive me Strider.”

(You can’t drive, he has a motorcycle. Okay maybe Dave was a lot less of a nerd than you gave him credit for).

 

That gets a grin out of Dave. “Second base already? Damn Vantas didn’t think you had it in you.”

This is how you two usually talk. Weird flirting, insults, complaining, lack of actual well put together words of thought. This is good.

 

At least it was good but when he says _this_ you find yourself staggering in your step and whipping around to face him. “I meant lunch,” you say, embarrassed for a reason you don’t understand, “ _Lunch_ Dave. Please don’t try to incorporate any of your sexual Stride-u-endos in what I just want to be a regular god forbid boring and normal lunch between _bros_. ”

This makes Dave blush and it doesn’t take a degree in Computer Science (cough SOLLUX CRAP-LORD cough) to realize that he’s embarrassed too.

And he’s embarrassed all through the ride to the café you two usually frequent, if his sudden tensing when you grab onto his waist as you pressed your body against his while he revved his cycle’s engine is any indication.

Still, things go back to semi-normal after that. You know you two can’t be embarrassed forever so it’s nice that, two weeks after that disaster of a lunch date-

 

(Wait…)

 

You mean, two weeks after that disaster of a “Bro-Lunch-Get-Together-That-Should-In-No-Way-Be-Interpreted-As-A-Meeting-Of-Potential-Future-Coupling”,

(Yeah…. that’s what you meant…)

 

You two could finally bury the “naked incident” deep under the pile that was the shitty lives of college students.

You’re thankful.

 

Then it happens again. 

* * *

 

 

It doesn’t happen the same way that it happened the first time, but it's another incident that puts you in a bad position that he knows and you know is _bad._

You don’t usually wear dresses or even skirts. They never looked…. right on you. You were built too awkwardly for your physique to even look moderately attractive in something that was supposed to sashay against the hips. In addition to your handsome gender neutral looking face (that for some reason Dave had begun to tease you for, commenting that you looked as “Cute as a melting button stuck to a designer bikini.” Whether that was an insult or a complement you never knew and never asked), you were tall, only a couple inches shorter than Dave, kept your hair short and (as Kanaya called it) “scruffy”, had a voice that perpetually sounded either too low or too squeaky (like you were a thirteen year old boy constantly entering puberty), and well…. You lacked female assets.

All those factored together made you in a dress look…ugly. Very ugly. (Fef had called you “Adora-bubbles!” that one time she took you dress shopping but didn’t see it in you.)

(You were just…. not very cute.)

So yeah, no flowery, pastel, light colored skirts for you. The closest you came to wearing a dress was the long t-shirts you wore to bed.

 

This is where Dave finds you the second time.

You had been running a load of laundry, your sweats, your shirts, and your jeans all-tossing together in the shared apartment laundry room, when there was suddenly a knock at your door followed by a text on your phone. That’s all the explanation you need to tell you that it’s Dave (who had begun knocking and texting ever since “that time”). You can’t help but roll your eyes when you open the door for him and remind him (again) that he had your fucking spare key for a reason. “And that reason being I don’t want to open the door just to see your asshole face pressing up against my peephole,” you say. You then cross your arms and ask him if he was just looking for an excuse to get his shitty gift from the god that was you revoked from him.

He doesn’t answer. Rather, Dave just looks you up and down, and asks, in a shocked sounding voice, “Where the fuck are your pants?”

“Washing,” you respond. To your surprise, he looks surprised.

“You…walked…out…. like…that?” he asks, pausing as if he’s trying exaggerate his feelings of shock as he gestured to you. You nod and Dave once again begins to dance his “Awkward-Dave-Is-Nervous” fidget dance. When he doesn’t move from your doorway, you roll your eyes (again) and pull him in, asking what you he wants to watch. He doesn’t answer your question, just keeps looking at you and instead asks if you at least went out wearing a bra.

 

You don’t give him a straight answer. “No one does their laundry this late asswipe,” you tell him. “Now what do you want to watch? If you say nothing we’re watching what I wanna watch.”

 

Dave just bites his lip.

 

“You should at least wear a bathrobe,” he mutters and this elicits a groan from you.

“Oh and you don’t just wander around the hallway of your dorm floor in your underwear?” you ask, not even trying to mask the annoyed tone in your voice. “News flash Dave: Just because you have recently discovered that I am lacking whatever the fuck is currently residing in your pathetic excuse for white undergarments doesn’t mean that you can suddenly tell me what to do-"

“I actually don’t,” Dave says suddenly, cutting you off. “I don’t walk around in my underwear at god knows fuck o’clock. And I actually don’t do whatever you’ve been doing for these past few months.”

Dave pushes his shades to the top of his head and crosses his arms like he’s the fucking Japanese anime Senpai who just caught the blushing middle schooled idiot by his locker with a pink note and heart stickers- (Wait…. What the fuck is that analogy?! Shit. Dave was rubbing off on you too much. That or you two hung out way too much.)

 

He continues.

 

“Strider’s have to protect their asses from all the blushing boys and girls. And frankly Vantas,” he says looking you straight in the retinas of your eyeballs (an action that both infuriated and embarrassed you), “I think you should be covering your ass too.”

There’s a look on his face that you don’t like (i.e. Really hate). It’s a look that makes your insides go all bubbly and makes your cheeks feel all red and embarrassed and shit. So, instead of finding words to counter his sudden avalanche of Strider-ness, you instead quickly turn and go to grab the snacks from the kitchen, ignoring the glare he gives you as you walk away.

 

And that’s when you stumble.

 

It’s a split second and it’s not a major stumble, but it’s enough of a stumble to know that your shirt had went up a _little_ higher than it was supposed to and it’s enough of a stumble that makes you both glad and very NOT glad that you are wearing (and only wearing) underwear underneath. (And no, you were NOT glad that you were only wearing underwear underneath for the reasons that will make stupid sexually oppressed sixteen year olds laugh.)

When you turn (post-stumble) to look at Dave, his face is…. red. Very red. He looks from your ass to your face before he quickly looks away. He’s seen your underwear…

 

And he’s embarrassed again. 

* * *

 

It takes three free lunches (and three awkward, body-pressed rides later) for you and Dave to get back (again) to the weird friendship you two have. Only this time, it’s even weirder.

He pulls away every time you go so far as to brush against him. He begins to call you before showing up to your house, as if he wants your consent to “bro-out” together. And there were times where you accidentally catch him looking at. Actually more like downright _starring_ at you, as if he was trying to tell you something telepathically. And you really doubt that what he’s trying to tell you telepathically is “Please fuck me Karkat” and “I love you Karkat.” 

(…Not that that was what you were thinking of when you saw him looking at you and sending you impossible to read telepathic messages.)

You ignore his weirdness for the most part (telling yourself he must be going through a shitty “Strider puberty” or something) and manage to bridge the awkwardness a lot. Or at least as much as you possibly could.

You bridge it enough so that you’re _not_ blushing like a pervert when you invite him over to your apartment for your shitt-ly planned Thanksgiving after school closed for break.

 

“Not going home?” Dave asks and you shake your head.

 

“My family’s in Canada and I don’t see the point of shelling out my good money just to buy a plane ticket that will let me see my folks for four shitty days before plunging me back on another disgusting metal bug to ship me back to good ol’ US of fucking A,” you mutter. Dave nods.

“Oh… Yeah…. Makes sense,” he says. “My family’s spread out all over this wonderful water covered planet too. So yeah…. Sure,” he grins. “Fuck yeah Karkitty. Let’s show the other man-bitches how to rock a Vantas-Strider turkey appreciation day.”

You were pretty sure he was lying about his family being spread out, but you let him lie and asked him if he wanted to shop with you for hunks of turkey flesh that had been disembodied from the bone pre-turkey day.

Dave just smiled. “Hell yeah,” he said. “Let’s do this. Let’s make this-”

 

You cut him off with a scarf to the mouth before he could finish _that_ sentence. 

* * *

 

The Wednesday before Thanksgiving you two were attacking the supermarket, racing other fuckers first for the best deals and making horrible food related sex jokes about emoji looking foods. The families passing by covered their children ears and old couples rolled their eyes when they saw you two. “College boys,” you heard them mutter again and again in a not-so-whispering voice. You had just ignored them like you had always done, having had already gone through your stage of “I’m a girl” so many times over that you now just accepted the fact that you didn’t look like one, until after the seventh side comment, Dave turns around and answers _back_.

“Girlfriend actually,” he says, starring down the old man who had complained about “Boys being boys.” Dave slung his arm against your shoulder and very calmly said, “I don’t think _she_ likes being called a boy.”

That…surprises you and you look at him like he’s lost his marbles down the marble eating drain _crazy_. The man rolls his eyes, apologizes, leaves and Dave let’s you go so you could properly stare at him and his lost marbled brain.

“The fuck?” you ask him. “Seriously what the fuck Strider?”

 

He looks away and takes the shopping cart from you, pushing it to check out. You two don't talk or really look at each other the entire bus ride to your stop. You still don’t look at each other when you get to your apartment. You two still don't say anything when you load the Thanksgiving goodies into your fridge. It’s only when you finished loading everything away that Dave finally does talk.

His exact words?

 

“I’m going to fuck you.”


	2. Act II: In Which Dave Meets Karkat's Elsa and Anna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they dance the tango of love....kind of

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ughhhhh edit help please SOS

You stare at him like he had, in that second, grown twenty heads and ask him, not even trying to hide anything at all, “What the _FUCK_ do you mean Dave?” Hell, you even whip out the “first name card” so he knows you’re dead serious confused.

Dave turns to face you, pushing the freezer in with his hip (like a boss) and crosses his arms. “I mean,” he says, “You’ve been driving me crazy and I’m going to fuck you.”

It’s ineloquent, it’s confusing, and before you can blink you find him marching over to you and pressing his lips against yours. You let out what sounds like a shocked sounding “Mmfle’d?!” as his lips crash against yours. There’s a second where you open your mouth a sixteenth of an inch (in honest to god confusion) and that’s all Dave needs to push his tongue _in._

It’s slimy, it’s weird, it feels like there’s a tentacle in your mouth and you struggle to respond back to his kiss but you pretty much fail. Dave pulls himself back and trail of saliva traces from your lips to his. There’s a confused look on Dave’s (pink) face and he asks if you ever kissed before. You shake your head, mind reeling and bit breathless from everything. You try to eloquently say something but, like Dave, all eloquence disappears from the table when you just whimper out the word, “ _T-tongue,_ ” like an idiot.

 

“Oh,” Dave says, “Oh...”

 

He pulls back and an embarrassed look passes by his face. “Oh…Sorry…. I guess…” He looks away and coughs, effectively breaking any hastily made mood that he had attempted to make. “I guess I’ll be…. retracting the ‘I’m going to fuck you’ thing then yeah? Yeah.” He continues to take steps backwards and then turns around so that your now presented with his shitty back instead of his shitty face. “Forget what I said I just…. heat of the moment and stuff…. Yeah…Uh…Please just forget it…” Dave coughs again and begins to study the back kitchen wall as if it held the secrets of Narnia.

That gets you mad.

 

Fuck him and his convoluted actions.

Fuck him and his Strider-induced puberty statements. Absolutely positively fuck him and his tongue that he had stuck down your throat. Fuck him all they way to mother-forking Mars and back for getting you all riled up just so he could take three steps backwards and freak out about you never doing this before. As if the sudden discovery of your virginity, both kiss-wise and sex-wise, meant that you weren’t super duper horny for him and needed him to just fucking touch you. _Fuck him so much._

 

“Fuck me Strider.”

 

You say that much louder than you were expecting to. You say it angrily and maybe a bit too forcefully. You say it, even though you had meant to say either “Fuck you Strider” or “Fight me Strider.” But instead you had made a Freudian slip of this whole stupid situation and you are now grabbing Dave by his shoulder and flipping him around like you would if you were suplexing him into the ground. “Fuck me,” you repeat again, an unmistakable growl vibrating against your neck. “I _want_ this.”

And his lips are back on yours.

He’s kissing you again and you are all too obliging. You wanted this. He wanted this. How your collected want didn’t explode the world and birth a brand new human race of Vantas-Strider hybrids you didn’t know, but you’re too busy with his mouth and all the slippery, slimy, goodness that he was pouring into your mouth to really care. Another growl emerges from your throat as Dave, all too suddenly, leaves your lips. He smiles down at you and you’re about to pull him back in when he tilts his head towards your neck and he begins to nibble it like-

_“Oh god.”_

 

You say that out loud because- _Wow_ that fucking feels _sensitive_. He must know it feels sensitive too (if that pathetic whimper that came out of _you_ indicates) and he pulls back again to downright _smirk_ at you before he leans back in and begins to fucking attack that spot with more teeth and bite and-

 

“ _Shiiitttt. Dave-!”_

 

(Oh _god_.)

(Did you make that noise? You will _never_ live that down and Dave will never let you live that down either! Embarrassment thy name is Karkat Vantas.)

 

You are writhing and wiggling, trying to both pull away and pull yourself closer to Dave at the same time. It makes no fucking sense to you right now that you and Dave are almost the same height because it feels like he is towering over you and-Oh god _why does that feel so sensitive?_

“Mmmffff…”

“Shhh... No words Karkat,” Dave whispers. “No words…”

 

You tug on his shirt, trying to shrink him down back to human size. He misinterprets though and pulls back entirely. You whine, wanting him back on you (and also not wanting him on you) and he responds by pulling off his shirt and tossing it aside, his shades following it in one fell swoop: The shirt is gone.

The shirt has left the Strider body. The shirt had just been “sayonara-d” and “bye bye-d.” The shirt has been officially replaced with pale torso, thin abs, and Strider nipples. Strider nipples which are apparently pierced with little rings (not that you’re looking at his nipples. Or his abs. or his torso in general.)

 

You gulp.

(You totally are looking at Dave in his shirtless glory. You are only human after all and a weak human at that.)

 

Dave takes this moment, while you are trapped in your dazed “goo-goo-gaa-gaa” stage, to place both hands on your shoulders without you knowing. Slowly, he walks you backwards until the back of your legs hit the couch and you fall down with a yelp. You reach out to grab something but you fingers only brush against Strider chest and you’re blushing to the tips of your black hair before you find yourself bouncing on the cushions and said Strider pinning you from above. He has the nerve to grin and what sounds like another growl escapes from you as you wrap your arms around his neck and twist your hands in his hair. “Prick,” you whisper before leaning in again. The kissing continues, this time with 50% less neck attacking and only 10% less Vantas mewling. You’re grateful that he stopped making you sound like that and just focus on his mouth on yours and how much he tastes like the shitty apple cider he drank from the free sample section of the supermarket. (You chastise yourself now for not buying  _more_ of that shitty apple cider.)

It’s when you feel him shifting and feel one of his hands accidentally brushing against your leg that you shove him back a little. “W-what?” you mumble and Dave leans back all the way. 

“Thought it would be a good idea to get this show on the road,” he says, pulling the belt from waist. “I think we can do without these right? I mean I saw yours you might as well see mine Vantas…I mean,” he stops and leans in to kiss your cheek, “Karkat.” He leans back again and pulls the belt away then gets up. Never looking away from you, he shrugs off his jeans and kicks them to the side, a smile on his face. Standing in front of you like a mother-forking Greek statue, you gulp because _shit that cocky fuck stripped off his underwear_ too. You try not to let your eyes wander but you can’t help but keep glancing and glancing and-“ _Dave I swear I will rip your dick off! Stop laughing you fucktard!”_

He continues laughing like a fucktard and pounces back on top of you, making your couch springs squeak and begins to brush his fingers against your sides so that you’re soon squirming under his touch.

“Ticklish?” Dave asks. You glare at him.

 

“Fuck you,” you snarl. His smile is too adora-fucking-ble for words and he begins to pull at your shirt. “May I?” he asks like the gentleman he is. “Wouldn’t want to do anything without consent from the fine lady.” You would roll your eyes but you find yourself pausing before…. before nodding nervously. This was it. This was mother-forking and motherfucking it. This was Karkat Vantas letting Dave Strider strip her of her large black sweater. You will the voices of insecurity (of which there are many) to shut up and you, hesitantly, lift up your arms without a second thought. It (the shirt, sweater, torso covering garment) comes off in a _whoosh_ noise and you hear Dave toss it aside.

Then he just kind of…looks at you.

He takes in your chest-torso area and just…. stares. He stares and there’s an unreadable expression on his (definitely) red face. You would make fun of him for his face being (definitely) red but in your current situation you can’t because…well…

Because you’re embarrassed.

 

Being exposed to Dave like this is embarrassing. Maybe if you were a dude then the reality of Dave seeing your small chest wouldn’t embarrass you as much. But you aren’t a dude. You’re a girl. And you’re embarrassed. Sure, Dave has seen you naked from the waist up (and pretty much from the waist down) before but that was a long-ish time ago and now, with him here on top of you (completely naked) and you beneath him, it’s…well….

It’s _really_ embarrassing.

 

When what finally feels like “too long” has passed you ask him, in a very softly whispered voice,

 

“What?”

 

Dave lets his eyes trail back up to yours and leans in to kiss you, with sweetness and with no tongue, on your lips before pulling back. 

“Karkat,” he says his eyes on your face rather than your chest. “Never have I _ever_ been more turned on by Disney characters in my _life_.”

 

You’re confused for a hot second about what the fuck he is talking about before realizing that you literally wore the _worst bra_ ever for hooking up.

It’s the child-training bra Vriska gave you as a “Ha! You have no tits!” joke (or a “Ha! At least I can fit into a normal bra Karkat!” joke) and you just _had_ to accidentally wear it on the day you and Dave were doing Body Exploration 101. Instinctively, you pull your arms towards yourself and quickly cover your chest, a look of mild disgust (and humiliation) tracing your face as you try to push a winking Elsa and Anna away from human eyes and the light of day.

(Fuck _Frozen._ It will forever be marked in your brain as the film about two devils that made your hook-up with Dave turn into a giant joke about you lacking in the female assets categories. Of course this is how Karkat Vantas’ first encounter with romance goes: screwed over by her boobs.)

 

“No wait hey-Hey!”

 

Dave grabs your arms and, in one fluid motion that takes you by surprise, pins them over your head. “I just said it was a turn _on_ babe,” he says. He then actually _pouts_ and, letting go of your arms, leans down towards your chest. “Don’t go taking away the girls on me Karkat.”

You’re about to tell him that you and your “girls” are literally the most non-turn-on-able things in the world (especially when cloaked in corporate Disney) but Dave chooses to shut you up. And by “shutting you up” you mean that he kisses Elsa right on her smug head and- _God_ …He…. he….

Your breath hitches and you gasp.

 

He’s kissing your chest.

 

His left hand pinches one boob through the fabric while his tongue teases you through the fabric on your other boob and you barely register anything because- _Wow is that his tongue and what is it doing?_  

“Arms,” he says again and, with a more muddled mind, you oblige. The horrible bra comes off of you and Dave begins to actually _nuzzle_ the newly exposed area that his tongue had been teasing before. “Hi again girls,” he purrs out in that stupid voice of his that makes you want to strangle him and kiss him and strangle him again. But before you can say anything he’s already planting soft kisses all over your exposed torso.

You whimper and groan, mewling out soft “ _Oh_ ’s” like a cat way too high on the nip as he continues with his exploration of the Vantas chest. He’s kissing and pulling and pretty much groping what is your boobs or whatever’s and it _feels good_.

A particularly lick has you crying out and practically shivering.

 

“W-wait,” you say, your voice in shreds as you mumble it out, “Wait I-I…Oh god…. _F-fuck.”_

 

He finally pulls back and you can’t stop the moan that comes out of you as he does. You look at him with glassy eyes and your breaths come out in shaky, way-too-hot, gasps.

It’s when you shift a little that Dave suddenly fucking _moans_ out loud. It comes out of nowhere and shocks you a little but it’s the look of pure _sensitivity_ that he gives you that makes you do it again. This time though, you try jerking upwards and then rolling your hips a little so that your hitting his leg and- _Wait_ that is _not_ his leg.

The look that Dave gives you is filled with what you can only describe as embarrassed lust: He’s got a boner.

You just gave Dave Strider a boner. You’ve just grinded against boner’d Dave Strider. And Dave “New-Boner” Strider wants you. You embarrassed him sure.

 

But he still wants you.

 

“W-wow Karkat,” he tries to tease, but he’s already slipping up over his own words and his embarrassment at being exposed with erectness. Coolness out the fucking window he actually hiccups with nervousness as he slowly lifts his hands off of your chest “Didn’t know you were so…s-s-sensitive.” His voice stumbles out the last part and you would laugh at him if you weren’t already in an equally embarrassed and “sensitive” state. You two idiots are way too turned on by each other. You’re surprised you two haven't melted each other’s faces off with hot, sticky, goopy turn on slime.

And speaking of hot, sticky and, goopy…

 

You wiggle a little bit and you’re glad that telepathy is for once working in both of your guys’ favor because Dave, in your wiggling, gets your message: You’re turned on. You feel weak. You want your pants off now.

And he takes your pants off, sliding them over your hips along with your underwear that got snagged with it. You shudder as the apartment air hits your ass and- _Hello_ now you’re both naked. Dave’s bare ass is on your bare feminine bits and legs and it's so hella-fucking embarrassing but it’s also…. it’s also _Dave._

He’s there. He’s real. He’s on top of you and he wants you as much as you want him.

 

“So…is this happening?” he asks. “Are we doing this?”

You can’t help the groan that leaves your mouth. “I hate that meme fuckface,” you grumble out, lifting your hands to caress his cheeks. “But sure…. we’re making this happen.”

 

Dave just smiles and, giving you another quick kiss, he pulls back and lifts himself off of you. You make that mewling noise again, not wanting him to go away, and he shushes you softly. “Not going anywhere babe,” he says before suddenly scooping you up like you were ice cream from Cold Stone Creamery. Your arms scramble to wrap around his neck and he has the fucking nerve to laugh at you as he marches you two down the hall. Ignoring your screams of “Fuck you Dave! You could’ve just told me we were moving! Put me down before I shove your own testicles up your own putrid wastechute!” he kicks open your bedroom door and whispers, 

“Brace for impact.”

 

You expect him to throw you against the bed and but your again surprised when he lays you down softly. “So much for ‘bracing for impact’,” you mutter not so quietly. Dave just kisses you again.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispers when he pulls back. “Why are you so fucking beautiful Karkat?”

You roll your eyes.

 

“My rage moistures my skin,” you reply sarcastically. “And my bitterness towards your stupidity and the rest of the American government helps keep my hair the fucked up masterpiece it is.”

Dave tuts and lightly taps your nose like you weren’t about to rip his dick off and feed it to him (which, technically you weren’t going to, but you still felt the need to remind him of after said nose-tapping happened.)

“I was going to say that it’s because you got a cute bod and a cuter face, but if you wanna get emotional then fine,” Dave replies. “And I think I’m going to need that dick of mine Karkitty,” he winks at you. “Karbabe. Karka-lotta-love. Vantas with ‘Dat Ass’. Cutie with a Karka-”

You cut him off by shaking your head. “Not cute asshole,” you mumble. “Go back to almost fucking me so you can stop staring at my….” you make a feeble gesture at yourself, “Everything.”

Dave then fucking pouts at you again. “Aww but Cutie with a Karka-booty….” he says (you growl at him and tell him that was “Literally the worst shittingly-shit nickname he ever pulled before.”) “Is it so wrong that I want to look at you? I mean…I just want to bask in the amazingness that is you babe.” He winks at you and you can literally feel your heart beating like the entire marching band section in your chest cavity.

 

Shit.

 

Fuck him and all his fucking-ly endearing smooth one-liners that he took from the romcoms you love too much. You were supposed to be the Shakespeare of the modern century, not this pale ass beanpole who wore the outside version of glasses. Fuck him.

You want him so bad.

He knows you want him bad.

He leans down and traces a finger down your cheek. “Karkat. Karkitty. Karkalicious,” he mutters softly and (dare you think it) lovingly. You and shove him lightly, “Fuck you.” you grumble, only this time with less bite. You’re cut off from whatever “Fuck you” add on you wanted to say when Dave he begins to kiss (attack) you neck again. He kisses there, then down your chest, then (surprisingly) past your chest to your stomach where he blows a fucking raspberry on your stomach. You squeak—

(Wait…You mean…)

You make a valiant heroic cry of discomfort and try to push him away.

“Asshole,” you mutter, wiping saliva off of you. Dave just grins.

“Sweetie,” he counters.

 

“Fucktard.”

 

“Angel.”

 

“Shitstain.”

 

“Girlfriend.”

 

That makes you stop. You feel yourself freeze and you look at him straight in his eyes like he’s crazy because…because…. Because he is. He is crazy. Or you’re crazy.

What the fuck did he just-? Did he-?

“The fuck did you just say Dave?” you ask, voice hitching. “Did you just say what I think you said because whatever the fuck you just said is probably not what I thought you just fucking said and-!”

He cuts you off with a kiss. “You’re beginning to ramble more when you get worked up,” he says when he pulls away, “But I think that’s more my fault than yours. Guess we really do hang out a lot Karkat,” He playfully kisses your nose. 

You’re still looking at him like he’s crazy and it’s for a few too seconds long. Or it’s for a few minutes too long. Or it could’ve been an hour. Time is a mysterious concept and all that seems to be happening in this moment of it is you and Dave. Dave and you. You and Dave on your bed in your apartment during the sophomore year of college with your Disney bra hanging off the edge of your coffee table back in the living room.

When your silent stare fails to end, Dave chuckles nervously. “Nothing? Nothing at all? Wow tough Karkat crowd tonight isn’t it?”

“Did you just say what I think you just said?” you repeat because clearly repetition is the only thing your goddam pie hole can do right now. There’s a pause and then Dave shyly nods. “Well yeah…. girlfriend. Karkat,” he mumbles. “You and me. Doing this. Making this happen. Being a loving couple and shit.”

You feel your eyelids blink several times and your eyeballs remoistening themselves. “A loving couple and shit?” you ask. This is clearly becoming not the situation Dave was expecting and you watch as he nervously begins to fidget.

“Uh yeah,” he says. “I mean, only if you want to. If you don’t than that’s cool. That’s totally cool. I mean…I want it but if you don’t want it than go ahead and tell Rose that we can now call the glaciers our second cousin twice removed because we definitely inherited their cool cause I’m cool with whatever you want... yeah….”

He’s the opposite of cool right now and he turns his face away from yours, as if he’s only _now_ giving you the decency and the privacy you deserve. Oddly enough though, y _ou_ don’t want that. You don’t want him looking away from you. You want him looking at you.

So you lunge and hug the son of a bitch.

It’s awkward because you can feel all of him exposed and he can feel all of you exposed. Being pressed up against him is really awkward and really embarrassing…. but you really _really_ like it.

“Fuck you Dave,” you mumble. “Fuck you and having to get me naked just so you could better spew your more than platonic feelings at me. Absolutely positively you are the shit and the worst at what romantics call ‘seduction.’” You pull back and glare at him. “Fuck yeah I’ll be your girlfriend you enormous insufferable prick.”

Three stages of emotions pass by Dave’s face in less than twenty seconds. First it’s utter disbelief, then it’s utter shock, before finally reaching utter gladness. His arms are around you three seconds after that and you can’t help but laugh at how stupid and wonderful Dave’s everything is. You feel him smile into you and this feels too horribly cheesy to be real life but fuck it: This moron was too horribly cheesy for real life. And this horrible, wonderful moron had somehow waltzed into your life and planted his ass firmly on your person and became the one person you never knew you wanted.

When Dave kisses you again, it’s with softness and a sweetness that has you practically melting. You’re grinning when he pulls back. He’s yours.

 

He’s fucking yours. 

* * *

 

“Shit….uh…Karkat?”

 

“Yeah…?”

 

“I left my condom in my jeans.”

 

“….”

 

“.…”

 

“…Dave?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I fucking love you but next time don’t do that.” 

 

Dave grins sheepishly at you and opts to pull you against him and kiss your forehead. 

 

“Got it babe,” he whispers.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this conclude Dave and Karkat not fucking. You're welcome

**Author's Note:**

> I have like....two other fics I wanna update but this is what I worked on. TALLY HO BACK TO DIRKJAKE AND MY POLYTRIO
> 
> ALSO someone please tell me of the grammar errors. Please. I'm begging you.


End file.
